Right where it is wounded,
The truth stings.
It makes the wound worse,
And the blood paints the streams.
Right where it is wounded,
The truth peirces.
But whom should we blame,
Who is the string that connects,
Events like a peice of jewelry,
So intricate that it is hard to unfeel.
Then right where it is wounded,
The long unknown comes and peices.
YOU ARE READING
There Was A Feeling
PoetryWhile so many things could've changed, I wanted to decide I'll always be the same. But why is it so difficult? ------- This book is the poetry book with poetries highlighting topics anxiety, depression, self-doubt, heartbreak and many more such fee...
